Difference
by onlyonechairleft
Summary: HPBTVS crossover. Post war in HP, AU since DH, Post S7 in BTVS. Ron gets a new job. Terminally on hiatus, unfortunately.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own HP and I don't own BTVS.

* * *

If there was one thing that anyone who had ever met him would agree to, it was that Ron was always going to be the one that (even if it was after copious amounts of complaining and giving out and general negativity) would step up and do the job if nobody else was going to.

It was one of the reasons he'd become friends with Harry Potter in the first place (poor lonely-looking weirdo in a carriage all on his own on the train. Ron had never told Harry but he'd had half a dozen offers to sit in other carriages that day) and one of the reasons he'd accompanied his friend on the incredibly dangerous, woefully stupid- but ultimately successful-, search for leftover bits of Dark Wizard. He could even laugh about that, now.

More importantly than all that right now though, is the fact that it also let him know exactly when he was in over his head- that sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach and tightness in his chest that clearly said 'Ron, mate, there are smarter and more qualified people out there for this job. Why are you here again?' Shaking his head, Ron answered his own question: No-body else was going to do it.

And he should have known- he should have. Hermione had _told_ him. She'd done the bloody research; he'd just signed the contract. Stupid Hermione.

It had started off fairly well- he didn't have any problems with Muggles or their weapons (even he would admit to rather liking both) and he'd grown up with strong, independent women so that wasn't a problem either. Their Demons were another story. He really wasn't a fan of Muggle Demons- who knew there were so many and that they were so intent on ripping his entrails out through his ears?

That thought brought him right back to Hermione and how she really should be far more vehement in warning him about things. It didn't help that when she said 'dire' she could be talking about the end of the world or his handwriting, and there was no way to tell the difference.

But back to the demons- and how utterly ineffective his magic was, thus far, proving to be against them. He remembered this happening before, of course- all magical creatures were like that, to an extent. But he was intent on sulking so being rational wasn't really of much interest.

He couldn't help but wince as the girl in front of him tied the bandage off on his ribs. He had tried to explain about his bone-mending potions but she'd just ignored him after staring at him like he was crazy (Him? Crazy? _She'd_ been the one who attacked the bloody thing that had thrown him clear across the room, and he was the crazy one?) and insisted on bandaging him up herself.

That would have been okay, he supposed, if she wasn't doing her doctoring in a room full of Slayers and Watchers that he had yet to be introduced to. That stung his pride more than he would ever admit (except maybe, someday, to Harry. Harry who was, at that very moment, tucked away deep inside the Ministry of Magic under the watchful guard from half of the Aurors in Britain. Not that Harry knew that. He thought he was a _guest_) and to make matters worse, everyone was staring at him. He could feel his ears burning.

Before he even had a chance to put back on his shirt- although he did manage to mutter thanks- a tiny blonde woman was standing in front of him, eyeing him with a critically assessing gaze. He recognised that look as the one Hermione's mother had been sporting when he'd first been introduced to her. Cool, calculating and just willing him to put a foot wrong so she could pounce. He gulped.

"Tell me again Giles, why we've been saddled with a wizard?" She said wizard like it was a dirty word- the way some wizards said _muggle_, he realised. Before he could even think to protest (he must have hit his head harder than he'd thought, to let her get away with that), a grey haired man with glasses (a watcher, Ron supposed) spoke up.

"He is here by request of the British government Buffy, and we must agree to the request- there has been a Wizarding representative to the Council for as long as the council existed." Buffy- what a stupid name- snorted.

"Oh, and we're holding so tightly to everything else the Council's been doing for years?" The elder man reddened and some of the other watchers laughed. Ron didn't get the joke, so he chose to stay quiet. Laughing at something you obviously don't understand is worse than not laughing at all. She gazed up at him again, vice cold.

"I don't know Giles, Slayers and magic? Generally un-mixy things- And this one is just a kid!" She spun to face her watcher, suspicion in her eyes. "Did they send him to us so that he'd get killed and they could move in? They did, didn't they? Oh my God, we're going to need-" Whatever they were going to need was cut off by a very loud, frustrated groan from the red-head.

"Argh!" He leapt off the table, ignoring the flare of pain for from his ribs (it wasn't worse than anything he'd had before so he could live with it for now), and scowling down at the tiny woman.

"Listen here, Slayer, firstly: my name is Ron. I'll spell that for you if you think you're going to have trouble with it. Secondly: I was not sent here to die, thank you very much. I've been on far too many suicide missions in my life, and this is practically retirement in comparison." If his ears had been red before, they were almost on fire now. "Thirdly: you need me here, for Merlin's sake! If for nothing else than to fix the disaster you call your 'magical protection'" His voice was a sneer worthy of Snape at that one. "Twelve year olds from my world could break in here and murder you all in your sleep and that's not even starting on your _actual_ security- I've been here three days and I have yet to see a single patrol. And where the hell are your lookouts? Who's guarding your perimeter? You're in the sticks here, Slayer, and an attack here would trap you all." By this point, he was pointing at her and shaking his finger. "And lastly, I can't be four years younger than you, so who the hell are you calling kid?"

The first one to laugh was one of the new slayers, barely fifteen and brunette, secretly delighted to see someone stand up to the amazing Buffy. None of her fellow Slayers would ever speak badly of her, even behind her back, and this was just too good an opportunity to miss.

Amazingly, she was joined in her laughter by most of the other slayers- although, to the trained eye, the Sunnydale slayers in the room weren't laughing. They were staring daggers- and several of the watchers.

And then, miracle of miracles, Buffy herself smiled widely.

"Nice to meet you Ron, I'm Buffy Summers. Sorry about my spazz- I'm a teeny bit paranoid when it comes to wizards." She stuck out her hand to shake his and if she was a little rougher than usual, he didn't react.

"Not nearly paranoid enough for my liking." He grinned. Laughing still, she spun on her heel and walked to the door.

"Come on, I'll show you the war room- all our defensive stuff is there."

As they passed through the door, the Slayers closest heard her ask quietly,

"That stuff you said, about our magical defences… is that true?" As he nodded the affirmative, the other slayers turned to one another. Willow was not going to like this.

They reached the 'War Room' in awkward silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Buffy pulled open the door and ushered the wizard in ahead of her. Alone in the empty room the silence was even more deafening.

A large mahogany table dominated the centre of the room, opposite floor to ceiling windows. The other walls were covered with maps of the world- dotted with information about Demon hotspots, Slayer locations and Council property. Ron wandered over to the window, gazing out over the lush gardens to the forest beyond.

"I'd like your permission to get a team in here as soon as possible to make a start on fixing your wards-or actually, to rip them down and start again." He turned to face her, quirking an eyebrow in her direction. "I'll pick the team myself- make sure that nobody has been sent here to get killed." To Ron's amusement, she blushed.

"I apologised for that already!" They lapsed into a less awkward silence this time, Buffy perched on the table top and Ron sitting opposite her on the window seat.

"What is it about the magic that deficient anyway? One of the most powerful wiccas in the world laid those wards." Ron grimaced at her near-accusatory tone.

"And that's the problem, right there- Wiccan Magic." He shrugged. "It's just not the same. It's… clumsy. There's no finesse. It relies on power alone, and that's all too easily defeated if you know what you're doing. Powerful isn't the same as strong." He paused, and she nodded. That, she understood. "Demons can't find the Wizarding world Buffy. That's what we can offer you here."

He thought he'd seen her cheerful before, but from the way her face lit up at that idea, he couldn't help but wonder he'd missed the sadness in her eyes.

"A real sanctuary then? I think I'd like that- we'd like that. Bring in whoever you need, I want this done as soon as possible." She bit her lip and ducked so he wouldn't see the sudden tears in her eyes. "These girls are my responsibility- I made them and I'll do whatever I can to keep them safe. I think I can trust you Ron- but if I'm wrong, and you screw up, I'll kick your ass myself." The tears were gone when she finally met his gaze, and Ron saw the woman who had saved the world countless times. He saw what her Slayers saw when they looked at her.

A hero. A champion.

She looked lonely.

"That's my job too now, Buffy. You're not the only one, okay? I'll get the team together and we'll start working tomorrow. You'll need to keep the girls inside- they can't be allowed to interfere." She nodded grimly, as excited at that prospect as she would have been at the notion of herding cats. "If you could get your Wiccan friend to be here, that'd be useful too." At that, she lifted a small silver fellytone (telephone, he corrected himself. Telephone) from the table next to her and punched several buttons.

"Hey Wills, how ya doin? Nothings up, really, but I need you here tomorrow." Ron couldn't hear the response, but Buffy didn't look defeated so he figured it couldn't be too bad. "Do your best, okay? Bye." She glanced at Ron. "She's in Brazil but she'll be here by morning." It was getting dark outside. Ron groaned.

"More Wiccan magic? Trans-Atlantic teleportation?" He rubbed his temples with his fingertips. "Does she realise what she's doing to the world when she does that?" He winced at the thought. "I might have to get someone in to talk to her too." Shaking his head as if to clear it, he continued in a far more cheerful tone,

"So, explain these maps to me, will you? At the moment, they look like a two year old was let loose in here with some of your Muggle coloured pens." Grinning, Buffy jumped off the table neatly and opened her mouth to speak. She loved the maps, and not just because they were her idea.

* * *

Later, as she gave him the tour, Buffy couldn't help but enjoy herself. She'd been all set to hate him, she knew. They talked a lot, though, walking around. He told her about his family, about how his parents had died, and she told him about her mother and Dawn. And Spike He understood loss and pain, and he wasn't automatically predisposed to hating vampires, so he could just listen and let her grieve. And then make her laugh like she hadn't since Spike had been alive.

It was a long time since she'd made a new friend. Since Riley, probably, and he didn't actually count. She had troops, now. Not friends.

As they rounded the last corridor- passing the dorms for the junior slayers- she found herself telling him about her own death. The middle one, that is. The one with Heaven.

She wasn't too surprised by his reaction- most people were shocked at the idea.

She was surprised by his silence, beyond the initial gasp. Ron, she had quickly learned, was rarely silent.

"What's the deal? I've told you worse than that tonight- remember the time I ruined my favourite shoes with demon gunk? Way worse." Her voice may have been light and cheerful, but even she didn't believe it. He met her gaze with saddened blue eyes.

"There is nothing worse than that, Buffy. Not just for you- I can't even imagine what you've been through and I don't know how you've managed to survive since. But to do that- the darkness that comes with necromancy". His expression changed to one of disgust and he shook his head. "It's just…" He was starting to sound angry now. He did that a lot, too, she knew now.

"It's so wrong. It's against every natural law."

He was silent for a few minutes as they walked the length of the corridor, back towards the stairs and the war room. "I'm not surprised that the balance shifted so quickly: a Slayer resurrected is a paradox, something that shouldn't be possible, but is. It's all so _wrong_ Buffy." He realised how his words sounded then, and stopped walking to look at her, make sure she met his eyes. "It's not that I'm not glad you're alive- because I am- but this Wiccan witch just astounds me in her arrogance."

Buffy was the one to stay silent, now, letting his words sink in. When she spoke, her words were soft.

"Giles felt like that, too, when he found out. I shouldn't be alive, I know that, but I won't be sorry that I am- not anymore. Willow is my friend and she did what she thought was right." There was steel behind her voice now, too. "I won't listen to anyone who says otherwise." He had no choice, really, but to apologise. It wasn't his place to take offence for what had been done to her.

"I'm sorry. I won't say anything again. But…" His gaze turned calculating and she frowned.

"But what, kid?" She may have been frowning, but she grinned at that to show that there were no hard feelings.

"Would you mind if I had someone look at you? A healer, I mean. Just to make sure that everything is… the way it should be." He thought he saw the briefest flash of anxiety cross her face, but he had sounded so concerned that she had to agree.

"Only if you promise to be there too. I don't like doctors, and I don't like magic. I'll need someone there that I trust and who knows what's going on." And she smiled at him again, anxiety gone, and started walking once more.

* * *

When Buffy woke in the morning it was to the sound of someone knocking on her door. Or pounding, more like, but that could have just been her head. As senior slayer she had her own rooms far away from the dorms and as such, was not used being woken.

"Come in!" She yelled, muttering "This better be good" under her breath as she climbed out of the bed. A junior slayer- Sandy? Mandy? Maybe Candy?- stuck her head around the door.

"Morning, Ms. Summers. Mr. Giles sent me to tell you that the Wizard team are here. Mr. Weasley wanted you to meet them before they start working. Can I tell them you're on your way?" Buffy blinked, once, and glanced at her clock. 8. 15 Am. She'd been in bed less than three hours. How had Ron managed to assemble a team already?

"Yeah, tell him I'll be right there." She didn't have time for a shower, so she pulled her (bed) hair into a high ponytail and opened her wardrobe. Groaning, she retrieved the only clean things in it- an oversize UC Sunnydale sweatshirt (Dawn had it made specially for her after the collapse) and a pair of old jeans. So much for making a good impression. She was going to look like the littlest Hobo meeting Ron's friends.

Then again, maybe she could use it to her advantage, somehow. People were always underestimating her anyway- let them think that she didn't clean herself too. She didn't care. Really.

She washed her face, scrubbed her teeth and was down in the lobby a mere six minutes after Mandy (she as nearly sure it was Mandy) knocked on her door. She took in the small (ten or so) group of slayers, standing alert on one side of the lobby. The wizards (robes and all) stood in a crowd on the other side. Between them, stood Ron, Giles and several other watchers.

"Morning all- what's the sitch?" Her voice was only partially falsely cheerful. Most of the cheer was real.

As she'd intended, everyone turned to her and she could feel the junior slayers

relax a little at her arrival. Giles and the watchers shot grateful looks in her direction. Ron, it seemed, hadn't been tense at all, and offered her a half-wave and a booming,

"What took you so long Summers? I was under the impression that you slayers don't need to sleep like us normal humans do?" She couldn't help it, she snorted. How ladylike.

"That's not fair Weasley- especially since you were the one who kept me until five in the morning. Whose bright idea was the tequila, exactly?" Her tone was, in turns, teasing and accusatory.

"What? Is the big, bad slayer hung over? Catch!" The bottle he threw was accurate and she caught it carefully, grimacing at the smell when it was uncapped.

"Gross. What's in this stuff?" He grinned wryly.

"You really don't want to know. But it will get rid of the hangover, and then we can get to work." She grimaced again, but swallowed the potion in one mouthful.

"Eurgh! That is vile!" But she perked up quickly when the potion kicked in and her headache disappeared. "Thanks!" She shot a smile to Ron before turning to her slayers.

"You guys can go start you drills in the gym- I've got this for now. Stay inside though, until either Ron or I give you the okay? Make sure everyone knows, Rona. The grounds are off limits today. We are strictly housebound." Rona nodded, and trooped away with the rest of the slayers, trusting their leader to deal with whatever was going on.

"Is Willow here yet?" She asked Giles, who nodded.

"She's in her room, getting changed. She, uh, has yet to meet our new friends."

Buffy took her warning from that, and nodded.

"Send someone to get her, will you? She's needed here." Giles went himself, leaving Buffy with two quiet watchers (the best kind, in her opinion) and Ron's people.

"So? Aren't you going to introduce me?" Cheekily, she grinned, resting her hand on her hip and making a face. Ron laughed. She liked that about him- how ready he was to laugh all the time.

"I suppose. If I have to. Everyone- this is Buffy Summers. Buffy, this is Alastor Moody- he's a veteran Auror, and there isn't a dark spell he hasn't dodged." Moody grunted, and shook her hand- only grimacing slightly as she squeezed.

"And this is Hermione Granger- she's a healer, and she's here just in case anything unexpected happens." Hermione's smile was stiff as she offered her hand, which Buffy shook enthusiastically.

"Ron has told me all about you- we definitely have to get together and you can fill me in on all the gossip from when 'Ickle Ronnie was in school." Her tone was conspiratory and Hermione's smile warmed. She moved to speak, but Ron interrupted with

"If she did that, she'd be incriminating herself too. And anyway, I never fininshed school, did I? Can't be too much to tell." Hermione laughed, and the red-headed man next to her grinned, stretching the scars across his face.

"No, you didn't, and Mum never lets you forget it either." Ron scowled, and introduced Buffy to his eldest brother, Bill.

"Oooh, Ron. You didn't tell me your brothers were so handsome. What happened to you?" Bill laughed again and Ron grinned.

"Lay off this one Buff- he's married, and Fleur is very protective. But I have four more, if you're interested?" Buffy stuck out her tongue at him, and sidestepped neatly as he tried to mess up her hair.

She could get used to having these people around.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own BTVS and I don't own the HP universe. I do have some popcorn though, and I'm willing to share.

* * *

"Oi! What the hell are you doin out here? I thought Summers told you lot to stay inside until we gave you the all clear- you're bloody lucky we haven't started yet or there would have been trouble." Ron may have towered over her, shivering with barely repressed rage, but the brunette girl barely noticed.

"Buffy is not the boss of me, wizard-boy, and I go where I please. And, right now, it pleases me to watch my girl work." Ron blinked, confused. What the hell was that supposed to mean? He was distracted from asking by the appearance of a petite red-head- a girl who could have looked a little like Ginny if it hadn't been for the frown on her, otherwise pretty, face. Ginny didn't frown- Ginny scowled. The red-head was the Wiccan witch, he realised, and she didn't look too happy as she walked towards him, down the steps of the building and onto the front lawn. But she smiled as she reached him, holding out her hand for him to shake and introducing herself in a voice that concealed all emotion. If she was angry, or upset, she hid it well. Once again, Ron really wasn't sure what to say. He wanted to be angry, to not like her from the start, but the woman in front of him just didn't scream arrogance or power- she looked meek, and slightly timid, and he felt a little ashamed to have thought so badly of her. She listened eagerly as he told her about the wards they were going to place, and nodded agreement in all the right places.

It was a pity, then, that she point blank refused to remove her own protections. Bill was going to love this, he groaned, and would undoubtedly hold it against him. He'd be lucky if he a free Friday night between here and Christmas, given the amount of babysitting he was in for. Glancing sideways at the smug look on the brunette slayer's face, Ron barely held back another groan. She wasn't helping matters either. Bloody slayers made the whole council job a lot harder than it had to be.

"Don't you understand though? We need to take down your wards to put ours up and it would be a hell of a lot quicker if you would help us do that- you put them up for Merlin's sake!" He was sure she almost laughed when he said that, but couldn't be sure if it was because of what he was saying or because he cursed. Either way, he flushed red.

"I'm sorry, but I just don't see why your wards are going to be any better than mine- they're the best that I can do, and I can do a lot buddy. I may not have a wand to wave around but I do know magic and _this_ magic is solid." She was pointing at him, speaking slowly but with annoyance in her tone. He recognised the look in her eyes too- determined and righteous, a dangerous combination but one he was all too familiar with. He saw it in the mirror every day. He'd have to be careful here, or he could easily make this ten times worse and he didn't feel like getting his arse handed to him by a girl that morning.

"That's the problem!" Or instead of being tactful, he could explode into determined and righteous anger. He always preferred plan b anyway- it usually proved the more realistic of any two plans. "If it's _solid_ then it's obvious. You might as well build a great ruddy wall for all the good it will do. These wards don't need to be solid, they need to be _flexible._ They need to bloody work."

Luckily for Ron, he ducked just before Kennedy's fist connected with his jaw.

* * *

"Excuse me, Miss. Summers? Can I have a word?" Hermione didn't strike Buffy as someone who was normally shy but here she was, doing a pretty good shrinking violet impression. The slayer smiled brightly at the other woman and nodded, muttering a quick 'Talk later' to her watcher, and walking over to join her.

"Please Hermione, call me Buffy. The girls call me Miss. Summers, and it makes me want to look around for my mom." Hermione noticed the shadow of grief that passed across the blonde's face at that and she winced internally. She knew how it felt to lose a parent, or two. "What's the sitch? Are you Wizarding types finished up already?" Hermione grimaced and shook her head.

"Not by half, I'm afraid. Your friend, Willow, is helping them replace the wards but there seem to be some… difficulties… between the two sides. One of your slayers is quite insistent that the wards don't need to be replaced and Moody is about ready to explode." Buffy eyes widened a little- this is what she got for following orders and staying inside like a good little slayer.

"That'd be Kennedy. Her and Willow have a thing." Hermione raised an eyebrow but didn't comment, lips quirking a little as she wondered what Ron would think of that. Wizards were, after all, notoriously conservative. She'd have to tell him later and watch carefully as his head exploded. "So, what can I do for you? You're not worried about Ron and me, are you? Because I know we got really drunk last night but nothing happened, I swear!" Buffy's voice carried across the training room, attracting the attention of more than a few slayers. "Let me tell you, that boy is seriously head-over-heels for you and-" The slayer finally looked up to see Hermione's amused expression, and she blushed a little. "And, you already know that don't you? Great. Chalk another one up for the Big Buffy Ego. I'm going to shut up now: see? Here is me, shutting up." Hermione grinned again, and took a seat on the pile of training mats next to the crimson slayer.

"I was speaking with Ronald and he told me that he'd asked you if I could give you a check-up? I'm a healer, you know?" The witch made a face. "Well, almost a healer at any rate. I only have a few months to go." Buffy couldn't help it as she paled a little, but she found herself nodding regardless.

"What did Ron tell you, exactly? I mean… I'm all for the checking up, but I'd like to know what it is you're checking _for_."

"He didn't tell me anything Buffy- he said that it was up to you. But, if you'd prefer, I can get someone else to do this. Or, I could teach Ron the diagnostic spells and he could do them himself maybe?" Buffy held up a hand to silence the witch's eager babbling, faintly reminded of a much younger, happier, Willow.

"It's cool Hermione, we're good to go. Where do you want to do this?" Despite her words, she was twitchy as she stood up, nervous. Buffy and doctors were unmixy things, after all.

"Somewhere private would be best, but wherever you'll be comfortable." Hermione clambered to her feet with far less grace than the slayer before her, almost tripping over the edge of a mat but finding Buffy's strong arm there to catch her before she fell. "Thanks." There was nothing more embarrassing than falling over in the presence of supernaturally gifted predators, especially when they all seem to be very attractive and flexible. And where exactly had _that_ bloody thought come from?

"We can use the library, there's no-one there right now and it would be the last place anyone would think to look for me." Buffy missed the grin of delight that lit up the other woman's face as she turned and led the way.

* * *

Several hours later Hermione found herself sitting, with her head in her hands, staring out the window to the grounds. From her vantage point on the table-top in the war-room, she could just make out the outline of the two Weasley boys (boys? Neither of them would appreciate that, she knew) in the distance. They seemed to be re-checking the security wards on the perimeter for the fourth time. Sighing, Hermione let her hands drop to her knees and she slid off the table. The wards were finished- a huge success by anyone's reckoning- Moody had already gone home, and the trainee slayers were running laps on the grounds. Hermione, who knew all too well how difficult it could be to get teenagers to do anything, had to admire their discipline. Her thoughts were wandering, she noticed, from the task in hand and she cursed Ron internally for getting her involved in all this. This was _his _bloody job, after all, and he'd only had it for three days before she was doing his work for him. Having ranted that little bit, she had to admit that it really was fascinating. The table was littered with books- ancient tomes borrowed from the watcher's library and her own private texts too- and notes, in her own neat handwriting. There were one other set of notes also- the ones that Willow Rosenberg had kept when she was working on the spell to raise the dead. Namely, Buffy. At that, Hermione raised her eyes to the blonde slayer, sprawled on the couch, asleep and snoring softly.

When Ron had asked her to check the girl over, she'd assumed that Buffy was carrying traces of some spell or another. As a result, she'd been blindsided by Buffy's casual admittance.

"_See, I died to close a portal to hell and so my friends thought I was _in_ hell. Then they brought me back but oops! Turns out I'd been in Heaven and after Heaven, earth pretty much sucked. Your boy Ron wants to make sure that I came back okay." _

Hermione bit her lip in frustration as she flipped through the index of one of Giles' books. There was so much wrong with this whole situation that she didn't even know where to start- not least the fact that she had been looking forward to spending her day off in bed with her fiancée and not trawling through dusty books to find out what the aura someone who has been resurrected should be like. Added to that was the slayer factor and Hermione felt like she was in first year all over again, seeking any sign of Nicholas Flamel. Maybe that wasn't the best analogy though, seeing as how the answer to that one had been staring them in the face all along. She groaned and slammed the book shut, turning instead to Willow's notes. The woman had handed them over quietly, apparently ashamed and humbled after a (long) _discussion_ with Mad-Eye about the nature of magic and it's place in the world. Somehow, Hermione got the feeling that the Wicca wouldn't be so much as levitating a pencil for many, many months. Mad-Eye was known to have that effect on people. But she would give Willow this- she kept immaculate notes.

The light was fading outside when the door opened and a familiar head popped in through the door.

"Hey there, you ready for home?" She couldn't help but smile at him as he spoke, letting the tension of her research ebb away as she stood up and stretched.

"I think I'm past ready, love." He grinned shyly, like he always did when she called him that. She loved that about him. He caught sight of the sleeping slayer as he crossed the room to Hermione and stifled a smirk.

"Some people just can't hold their drink- she's almost as bad as you are." Hermione swatted him on the arm and made a face.

"Some people are just that much more civilised than you and your brothers- Merlin knows you lot could outdrink the rest of the planet." She gathered her things with a flick of her wand, the books and notes packing themselves neatly into her trunk, shrinking to fit as they went. "We can't leave her here anyway. Do you know where her room is?" Ron nodded, moving to lift the tiny Slayer as Hermione looked on in surprise.

"She doesn't like magic being used on her." He explained, answering the question she hadn't asked. "Could you get the door for me though? I don't think I'll be able to manage." The bundle in his arms shifted a little, her fists curling in Ron's shirt, and she muttered something incomprehensible. Hermione made a face but opened the door wide, content to watch as the love of her life carried another woman to her bedroom. That _really_ wasn't how she'd planned to end her evening.

* * *

It was only later that night, curled in Ron's embrace in their bed, that she told him what she'd found out. It wasn't much, admittedly, but it was enough to make a start with.

"It was really dark magic, obviously, because it was necromancy, but it was worse than that I think, because it was designed to bring Buffy back from hell and she wasn't there, was she? There are a dozen reasons it shouldn't have worked, but given what happened with the First Evil the following year, I can't say I'm surprised it did." Ron was silent, rubbing circles on her skin with his thumbs in what she recognised as contemplation. She loved that touching her helped him think, some of the time.

"You reckon that was the plan all along then? The First Evil gave them the juice to raise the dead because it'd get a foothold here in return?" As always, his mind made the connections before she'd laid it all out.

"I think it's a possibility, yes. Physically, there's nothing wrong with her. There's only the slightest trace of the magic that raised her but I can't be sure if that's because she's the slayer or if it's just because of the time that's passed. There's no way to know that for sure, short of raising another slayer from the dead and doing a comparison." She did her best to keep her voice level but he could hear the tension. It was something he knew well, since he was usually the one to inspire it.

"People do stupid things when they're grieving, Hermione. We both know that." She grunted at him in slightly sullen agreement.

"Some things though… there are some things that I don't think can be forgiven." He pulled her closer, if that were possible, and pressed his lips to her forehead, knowing what she was remembering and why.

"That was different Hermione. We can't throw stones in this one, not when we've done things that are just as bad. Green houses, eh?" She giggled a little, or sniffled maybe, it was hard to tell, and brushed her lips over his.

"You're right, I know. I just… I just feel so bad for her, Ron, and there's nothing I can do to help. There are no spells or potions that can take away the pain of this one." They lapsed into silence for a moment, enjoying the comfort of just being _close_.

"I think that, maybe, more than anything else, what she really needs is a friend or two." She could feel his grin against her bare skin. "And we know how to do that already."

* * *

When Buffy woke up, fully clothed but in her own bed, she blinked in confusion. How, exactly, had she gotten back to her room? The last thing she remembered was sitting in the war room, watching Hermione devour books the night before. She yawned and stretched, and decided she didn't care too much. She'd slept, it was all good. Slowly, the slayer rolled out of the bed, and strolled into her bathroom, wincing at her reflection. She really needed a shower, and her hair could use some serious conditioning. For now though, she'd settle for finding her toothbrush. She reached out to the holder and when her fist closed around the brush, the world shifted and changed around her, and Buffy found herself in the desert.

"Huh?" Articulate as ever, our Buffy. She knew this place- she'd been here before, when the first Slayer had invaded her dreams. The sun beat down on the back of her neck, and Buffy wasn't surprised to find herself wearing the clothes she'd been wearing that last day in Sunnydale. Glancing down, she grimaced a little at the sight of her burnt hand and the blood on her top. Someone, somewhere, was going for realism. She couldn't fault them that, she supposed.

"Hello? Is there anyone here?" She waited a beat for an answer, before stamping her foot in frustration. "I said: Is there anyone here? I'm not the most patient slayer in the cosmos you know? If you have a message for you, you might want to get on with it, before I die of boredom!" For added dramatics, she flopped on the ground and into a hasty lotus position, grumbling all the while.

It didn't take long for her company to arrive, sitting next to her in a similar position but with a cigarette in her hand.

"At least I know it's really you B., cos there's no way I'd dream _that_ hissy fit." Great, just great. She was stuck in the desert with Faith, it was hot and all she wanted to do was brush her teeth. Stupid slayer dreams.

"Any idea what we're even doing here, F.?" As ever, Buffy's mimicking was slightly sarcastic but for once Faith didn't rise to the bait. Proof, if proof was needed, that it was indeed a dream.

"Not a clue B. I was having a very pleasant dream about-" But whatever Faith's dream was about, Buffy would never know. Probably something dirty anyway, she thought. The interruption was twofold: one, the first slayer had arrived and two, Buffy was on fire.

She woke up screaming.

* * *

A/N: I'm not sure when this will be continued because I'm not sure where it's going, really, but if anyone has any suggestions, please feel free! 


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own either HP or BTVS. I do (almost) own my car, but that's about it. And you can't have my car.

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far! ;)

* * *

"Yeah?" Her voice was muffled and Giles could tell that he'd woken the dark-haired slayer from sleep.

"Faith, good morning- I trust you had some interesting dreams?" She chuckled across the phone line.

"You could say that G. B give you the 4-1-1?" She yawned and her words slurred a little. Idly, he wondered what time it was in Cleveland- so early in the morning it was still late the night before, he believed. It had just passed nine in Bath.

"I'm afraid not. Buffy has been… quite unresponsive since she woke this morning. She mentioned your name, I believe. Willow is with her now." He fell silent, listening to her breathe from thousands of miles away.

"Jesus H. I knew it was bad but I musta missed something. You want me to come?" He nodded, grateful that she had suggested it herself, before realising that she couldn't _see_ the gesture. Hurriedly, he agreed and told her he had a flight booked for her already- leaving the airport in less than two hours. She'd have move quickly.

"I'll get my stuff together now." He could hear her moving around, apparently packing as she spoke. "You got a couple girls with time on their hands? Robin could use some help here while I'm gone."

"I'll ensure that the Hellmouth is adequately protected in your absence, Faith. And Robin too." She chuckled again, darkly this time.

"You really don't need to be worrying about the principal on my account G-Man." Giles winced at the bitterness in her voice. How had he not known about that one? One of the others should surely have known.

"I'm sorry Faith. I didn't realise…" She sighed and when she spoke again she actually sounded tired.

"It's cool Giles, I'm 5 by 5. Better off this way anyway, yeah?"

"Perhaps. If I may be so blunt as to say this, but Robin is a terrible fool if he doesn't realise just how wonderful you are." The following embarrassed pause was enough to make Giles heartedly glad that he wasn't talking to her in person.

"I'll see you soon Giles. Tell B I'm on my way." And she was gone.

Giles returned the phone to its cradle slowly, head aching. She'd sounded… worried, a little. It was enough to make him wonder if he should be _more_ worried. Sighing, he pushed his chair away from his desk (a wonderful dark mahogany desk that the Summers girls had gifted to him when the facility had first opened) and made his way to the door. Time to check on his slayer, and maybe get to the bottom of this new slayer dream.

* * *

"Ron! Ron Weasley, wake up!" Groaning, the red-head rolled over in his bed and snatched at the mirror on his bedside table, trailing the other arm out to encounter empty bed where Hermione should have been.

"What is it Gin? What's the matter?" He squinted blearily at his sister's face as she grinned widely at him.

"It's about time, lazybones. I've been calling for ages. Get up! George wants you at home for ten, remember? Fred has an _announcement_ to make. Bet you a Galleon Angelina is up the duff." Ron laughed and then groaned.

"Bugger- I'm supposed to being going to work today Gin. Will you tell them I'll be over later? And I'm not taking that bet- it's almost certain. Hermione saw 'Lina in Mungo's the other day. Maternity ward." Ginny clapped her hands with glee.

"I'm going to be an auntie! Who would have thunk that Fred would be the first of the twins to settle down and have a kid? Ooh… and so soon after Artie was born too Fleur will be furious." She sounded entertained at the prospect, Ron noted wryly. Despite the fact that since the birth of the first new Weasley of the generation (Arthur Jacques) two months before the (only) two Weasley women had been getting along much better, the Frenchwoman had still yet to become one of Ginny's favourite people, and Ron secretly doubted that she ever would. Arthur himself or Artie as his uncles insisted on calling him (to his mother's despair), had come along at a time when the Weasley clan were desperately in need of some good news and nothing could have endeared Fleur to Bill's brothers faster than the tiny red-headed baby. The fact that the Weasley boy-dominant gene had overcome Fleur's Veela side had been a shock to both sides of the family. According to Bill, Mrs. Delacour had fainted when she'd heard the news- not only a redhead, but a boy? It was simply unheard of.

"Don't start that again Gin. She's not that bad, yeah?" He clambered out of the bed, careful to keep the mirror pointed toward his head out of consideration for his little sister's sanity. Ginny snorted and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like _Bloody Veelas_, which Ron chose to ignore. There was no arguing with Ginny about Fleur and every Weasley knew it.

"How's Harry doing anyway? I haven't seen him in days." He pulled on his jeans and reached into the pile of dirty clothes on the floor for a t-shirt, pulling out a bright orange one and sniffing it. Making a face, he muttered a quick _scourgify_ and pulled it over his head. His sister giggled through the mirror.

"You saw him _two_ days ago Ron. Two days! You two are as bad as a pair of old women. He's fine anyway. Still seems happy enough with all the stupid things Kingsley is having him do." She giggled again. "Poor Harry- he thinks it's really weird that he's sitting around all day identifying plugs and things, but Kings has him convinced that it's vitally important that it all gets categorised." Ron snorted with laughter himself. Harry was going to be very pissed when he realised what was going on.

"I'm surprised he hasn't copped actually- never realised he was this dim. Does he not find it at all suspicious that there always seems to Order members in the Burrow these days?" Ginny shook her head as he pulled on a pair of socks and stuck his feet into his shoes.

"Apparently not, Merlin bless him. Best be warned though, George is already on the warpath so your excuse better be good for missing this! I wouldn't want to be you when he comes after you." And with that she was gone and the mirror clouded once more. Ron stretched, yawned and grabbed his wand. He was going to be late.

* * *

There was a quiet hush over the training room when he walked in, slayers and watchers conversing in small groups with hushed voices. Odd, but not too unusual given the company, Ron supposed. He caught sight of a flash of red out of the corner of his eye, and turned to see Willow approach him, face lined with anxiety.

"Morning Ronald- it is Ronald, isn't it? I checked the wards again this morning and they seem to have held. Not that I thought they wouldn't hold, just that I thought you might like to know. It's strange you know? That there's this whole other magic that I can't do and can barely sense, just when I thought I was getting a handle on the whole MagicGirl thing. Goddess, I'm sorry, I'm babbling aren't I?" She flushed and flapped her hands as if to wave away the babbling. "I do that when I'm nervous. It's a habit, I think, and I can't stop because I'm tense and nervous and the more I babble the tenser I get and then it gets so that I just want to sit in the corner and breathe." On the word _breathe_, the Wiccan took a deep breath and seemed to calm a little. Ron stifled his laughter, barely. She was cute when she was flustered.

"Thanks Willow. I was going to check that myself but I won't bother now." She flushed a little more at that- at his thanks, maybe? "What's going on here then? Everyone seems a bit more on edge than usual." He waved an arm wide to indicate to the roomful of tense girls. Willow bit her lip and her worried look doubled.

"A lot of the girls had weird dreams last night- creepy slayer dreams. I don't know what about because I've been with Buffy but from what I've heard, it really freaked them out. And it takes a _lot_ to freak out a slayer, let me tell you." She nodded once for emphasis, eyes suddenly hard.

"What's the matter with Buffy then? Did she dream that she'd ruined more shoes?" The comment, designed to make Willow laugh and remove the tension around her eyes, didn't so much as raise a smile. Instead, the Wicca's face dropped even further.

"Buffy was the worst of them all, I think. Apart from Faith maybe, and I suppose that makes sense even though Kennedy says that they're no different so they shouldn't be treated any differently. I don't know about that myself because they are, kind of, different, and the other girls don't seem to mind that, it's just Kennedy." Shaking her head suddenly, she remembered the question. "She's in her room and she refuses to leave. She hasn't said a word in hours- not since she woke everyone at seven o'clock, screaming and crying in her sleep." Ron blinked.

"Okay, that's weirder than normal."

"I know. I think that's why everyone is so worried, really. Buffy has always been, well, Buffy. If something has her spooked then the rest of the girls are going to be concerned too." Her eyes lit up suddenly. "Oh! I almost forgot- Giles asked me to come get you when you got in. Something about a book you were looking for yesterday? He said to tell you he'd found it, and that it's in the library. If you ask Andrew, he'll help you find it." Ron nodded slowly, glancing around at the worried faces in the room.

"Is there anything I can do to help with all this?" Willow shook her head, hair swaying as she did.

"We'll figure it out- the watchers are trying to figure out the dreams and the seers in the coven are watching the signs. We'll figure it out. We always do." Her voice was chirpy again and she grinned up at him.

"Fair enough then. I'll be in the library if you need anything." Deep in thought, he sauntered out the door and back toward the library to retrieve the book Giles had promised him. Hermione had been the one to request it, naturally, and she'd hinted that there may be something useful in it about resurrections. Ron figured that reading was the least he could do to make himself useful. The halls were quiet as he walked- there were no classes running, no girls throwing knives or hitting each other, and the library was empty too, surprise, surprise. He found the book easily enough- Andrew must have left it out for him, given the bright yellow post-it stuck to the front page. It was the smiley face that gave the boy away, Ron grinned. His grin faded as he flipped open the leather-bound cover and he groaned loudly at the sight of the symbols inside. Why hadn't he taken Arithmancy instead of Divination? He dropped into the seat with a satisfying thunk and conjured a pen and paper to take notes. On second thoughts, he might need a dictionary too. It served him right, he supposed, getting stuck with research after having Hermione work on her day off and then being late to work himself. Merlin, he hated research. Buffy had better appreciate the effort, he thought grimly.

* * *

"Buffy? Buffy, can you hear me?" Giles knelt on the cold tiles in front of his slayer, reaching out one hand to brush her hair out of her face. She met his gaze with blank eyes, staring but not seeing. He sighed for the hundredth time that morning. He tore his own gaze away and pulled back, sitting up onto the edge of the bath. She hadn't moved in almost an hour, not since he'd managed to coax her into the bathroom in the hopes that she would have a bath, at least. The bathwater was cold, now. Instead of getting into the water, she'd curled up in the corner behind the door and proceeded to stare at the wall with increasing intensity. She barely acknowledged that he was there, beyond telling him that she needed Faith. Whether she'd meant her fellow Slayer or not was still up for debate, even as the slayer (who may or may not be) in question was winging her way across the Atlantic. She'd been muttering ever since, phrases that neither he nor Willow understood, in a voice that sounded far too low to be her own and was too familiar for comfort. They'd both recognised the first slayer in her voice- harsh and guttural and too hard to have been Buffy alone.

Given what the other Slayer's had told him about their dreams, it was enough to make the head of the council worry. A loud thump brought his attention back to the blonde slayer- she'd punched the wall with her left hand and was watching as a trickle of blood moved across her knuckles. The tile on the wall had cracked, and her hand was coated in dust. She was muttering again, and Giles moved closer to listen.

"Beneathyoubeneathyoubeneathyou." Her eyes snapped up to his as he drew closer and he could see, with some relief, that there was life in them once more. "Can we rest now?" She asked, voice plaintive and weary. Giles felt the tension leave his shoulders as he fell to the floor to embrace her. That, at least, had sounded like a proper question directed at him.

"Oh Buffy, yes. You can rest now." She didn't quite return his hug but she did lay her head on his shoulder as he rubbed circles on her back. He either didn't notice or chose not to comment as she wiped away the tears from her cheeks.

Her head lying against his shoulder, the eldest of the slayers gazed with wide, blank, eyes at the wall behind him. Sometimes, she really, really wished that someone else had been chosen for this hero gig. She was getting too old for this crap.

* * *

"Oh Fred! That's wonderful!" Despite her happy words, or perhaps because of them, Ginny burst into tears and pulled her brother into a hug, ignoring the laughter that circled the room. Angelina found herself in the middle of a group hug, which might have been more comfortable if the group hadn't consisted of five fully grown, and very tall, men. She couldn't help but smile though, as they danced her around in a slow circle, celebrating the newest addition to the clan. Or, the soon-to-be newest addition. Angelina herself refused to get too excited about it until she was at least showing. Over the top of Percy's head she met Fred's eyes and he grinned at her, warming her up from the inside out. And then he was gone as she spun around the room again, laughing loudly.

Hermione stood back from the festivities, watching from the sidelines with Fleur, who was holding Artie to her chest like a protective shield. She knew from experience that a Weasley family hug was a force to be reckoned with (rather like a natural disaster) and she didn't have the energy to join in, while the French witch had little interest in getting involved. Fred detached from his sister and moved to join Angelina in the middle of the huddle and Hermione giggled a little. Harry, squashed between Charlie and Percy and pressed up against Bill, stuck his tongue out at her and she giggled more at the sight of him, glasses askew on his head and his hair in a nest on his head. He looked happy, she noticed. _And why shouldn't he be?_ A little voice in her head asked. _He's the Boy-Who-Lived. He destroyed the Darkest Wizard of our time and he lived to tell the tale._ Her grin faded a little as she remembered another day, another celebration. _But it cost_ us_, didn't it? Cost us more than anyone even knows and we can never forget that. _She smiled carefully, forcing an image of cheer onto her face the congratulations spilled forth. They sounded excited, delighted even, but it made Hermione feel ill. _It cost me more than I can ever forgive. _

* * *

"Hey Red, I'm on my way out now. What's the sitch?" Faith strode through the crowded arrivals lounge, making a beeline for the tweed-wearing guy holding the sign with her name on it. On the phone, Willow was twittering on about how Buffy was back with it and they'd be having a meeting as soon as Faith arrived. Faith, for her part, was very excited at the prospect. Or, you know, not at all. Whichever. The thought of sitting around a table as the Scoobies (and whoever else was there that week) had their little get together made her want to hit something. Repeatedly, and preferably with a big stick.

It was pushing dark as she got into the council car with Gerard, the watcher who had been sent to collect her. It seemed he knew of her reputation because he was a little shy in making conversation. Unusually for Faith, she could deal with that. She had too much to think about right then to even begin wondering what tweedwithwheels was thinking. She threw herself across the backseat, watching the countryside as it flew by through the tinted glass of the car windows. She hadn't really ever thought she'd be back in England, not after moving to Cleveland. The Hellmouth was her responsibility, this time, and she had never considered leaving, not once, since she'd arrived there the previous year. She'd grown up, she knew, and she was more than ready for whatever the 'mouth could throw up on her. Biting her lip to stave off tears, the brunette slayer realised that she hadn't quite been ready for whatever Robin could throw at her. Shaking her head to clear it of not-useful thoughts, she pressed her forehead to the cool window. There was something brewing and she didn't have time to figure out what had gone wrong with the principal, even if she was fairly sure it _had_ been all her fault. Not that she'd admit that to anyone, except maybe B. Buffy knew all about what it meant to drive men away, or at least she thought she did.

Anyway, back to the brewing evil, and the end of the world. How exactly the First Evil had managed to claw its way back into this dimension? Faith had been under the impression that the can of whupp ass that they'd dealt it the previous year had all but banished the evil.

_Huh_ She thought. _Maybe our first mistake was in believing that we _could_ banish the first of all evils from existence. _Internally, she groaned- when you put it like that, it really did sound ridiculous. They should have known.

* * *

Ron ignored his stomach as it grumbled for the hundredth time that day- he'd had lunch, he knew, at some point, and had been hard at work translating his new pet book ever since. He'd have given it up a long, long time ago if he hadn't actually been getting anywhere. When his stomach groaned even louder though, he finally looked up from the text to realise that it was getting dark outside. He'd been in the library for longer than was good for his health. With a flick of his wand, his notes piled themselves up and jumped on top of the now neatly-closed leather volume. He stood, grabbing the pile and tucking it under his arm as he moved, and made his way to the door. His mind was reeling, considering everything that he'd read in the past few hours and what exactly it all meant- he had some things to check with his girlfriend before he even considered mentioning it to anyone. And even then, he may only be able to say anything to Buffy, given that it was her that all this really affected. His feet moved as if by will of their own and before long he found himself standing in the, fully stocked, kitchen. Of course, he was already well acquainted with the kitchen. (He was a Weasley, and therefore his priorities dictated that he should know where the food is in every situation.) Idly, he set the kettle to boil and began to create a Ginny-Weasley-sandwich special: three layers of ham, turkey, mustard and lettuce, with onion and peppers and a teeny bit of mayonnaise. And a glass of milk because Hermione insisted it was good for his teeth. His things were abandoned on the sideboard as he sat down to eat, humming happily at the prospect of food. The messy sandwich was in his hands and he was just taking his first bite as the kitchen doors swung open and announced the arrival the one and only Faith Lehane.

"Hmm. That looks _good._ Can I have it?" And she smiled, showing the dimples in her cheeks. She sauntered toward him, hips shaking and her chest pushed out. Clearly, Ron thought through a daze of appreciation, this was a woman who was not used to getting told no. So instead of telling her, he opened his mouth wide and took a huge bite and then grinned, showing her his teeth as he did, and the pieces of onion that were now stuck in them, and slowly shook his head.

When she'd stopped laughing, and he'd managed to swallow before choking (and Merlin, what a stupid way to go _that_ would be, after everything else he'd been through), she managed to introduce herself. Shaking her hand, Ron couldn't help the shiver that ran up his spine. Something big was about to happen, he realised. Something really big.

"Here, have it. I'm not really hungry anyway." You know it must be something dangerous if Ron wasn't hungry anymore.

* * *

A/N: Questions? Comments?


	4. Chapter 4

Warning: There is some - brief- mention of miscarriage here, so if that upsets you, please don't read this, okay?

It's been a while, but here goes...

Oh, and I don't own anything. There's about sixty quid in my bank account, and my car loan owns my car. So, I don't own the toyshop, I just stare in the window.

* * *

"You're here because of the weird dreams, right?" She nodded slowly, raking her eyes over him even as she took a very large bite of his sandwich. He nodded, and sat back in his seat, taking a sip from his tea and smiling. "Whats going on with all that, anyway? Is Summers back to herself again?" Faith frowned and swallowed.

"You've been here all day man, don't tell me you don't know." She shot a panicked look at the sandwich. "Who the hell are you?"

"My name is Ron. I'm the representative from the Wizarding World- this is day four on the job and I am decidedly not in on any secrets around here. I spent the day doing research and being ignored."

"So what makes you think that I'll tell you anything?" Wizards? She would have stayed in Cleveland if she'd known there were wizards involved. Magic was cool and all, but Willow's black-eyed stare was something she never wanted to see again. That girl was crazy, and more of her kind? Never of the good.

Ron snorted, almost laughing.

"I don't. But it was worth a try. I'll get the story from Buffy some other time anyway." He picked up his books and stood, waving to her with his free hand.

"It was nice to meet you Faith, and I'll see you around, okay? I'm going to get drunk with my brothers and celebrate." There was something about this guy, a niggling feeling at the back of her mind that reminded her of... something. Made her feel... something. And he knew B., right?

"Did B. tell you anything about the First Evil?" He stopped on the threshold of the door, looking back at her over his shoulder. Her eyes were unreadable, but she met his gaze.

"Yeah, some." Please, please don't let the sinking feeling in his stomach mean what he thought it might mean.

"The dreams told us all the same thing- the First is back and boy, it's _cranky. _B got a worse deal than the rest of us- in our dream she was burned to ash again and again. Giles thinks it was symbolic, but it freaked her out enough that she was all Girl Interrupted this morning." She paused and smiled a little. "I think it freaked him out more that she asked for me." She laughed outright, at something that Ron really didn't understand. Buffy had led him to believe that Faith was one of her most trusted friends. Interesting. On top of that was the very disturbing news about the First. This could be problematic. But this was Faith, and she was, maybe, the only one who could actually help him now. Maybe.

"There's something bad coming, isn't there?" Unconsciously, he hugged the book tighter to his chest, thanking Merlin for Hermione's foresight. She nodded slowly, noting the movement, and gestured to the book.

"What's the deal with the reading material?" He glanced down, before looking back up at her and smiling grimly.

"It's nothing interesting, yet. I'll let you know if it gets good. See you around Faith- enjoy your supper."

She turned back to her food as he walked away, tearing another chunk out of the sandwich. Whatever tingles the guy might give her, he couldn't lie worth a crap. She swallowed hastily, and ran off to find Giles.

* * *

Hermione jumped when the mirror on the table called her name. Or, more specifically, Ron used the mirror to get her attention.

"Hey 'Mione, you got a minute?" His voice was tense, and she dropped her book in surprise. Ron hadn't been tense in a very long time.

"What is it? What's the matter?" She kept her own voice low, quiet so as to not draw the attention of a librarian who already didn't like her. His face in the mirror showed his worry too, creases across his forehead worrying her.

"Hey love, don't panic. It's nothing urgent- but, do you remember what we were talking about yesterday? About our new friend and the reason I missed Fred's news today?" She nodded slowly, thinking back to their conversation. She already didn't like where this was going. "Well, I got that text you mentioned and it seems to agree with us. More than agrees, actually." Okay, she was actively beginning to worry.

"I'll be home in ten minutes, okay? We'll talk about it then." His face shone with relief, even as she gathered her books together.

"Thanks love. I'll put the kettle on." She couldn't help but grin. Merlin, she loved that man.

She almost ran out of the library, narrowly missing the librarian as she slid out the door and toward the apparition point, mentally running through the list of books that they might need and wondering, briefly, if Ron had even bothered to tell anyone else about this. Probably not. He was so used to taking his problems to her, that he wouldn't even think of it. That warmed her slightly, but the voice in her head that reminded her of her final exams wasn't so warm.

Studying would have to wait- this was the world, wasn't it? That's nearly as important as studying anyway.

She got home in record time, unlocking the door mere minutes after Ron had called, and just as he was filling the teapot from the electric kettle. Some things, he agreed, were better done the Muggle way and tea was one of them. Their apartment wasn't big (Harry said it was tiny, and Ginny called it cosy, but neither of them really cared) so she saw straight away where he was, standing by the kitchen table with his nose in a book and an Arithmancy dictionary open on the table in front of him. A Muggle pad of paper lay next to the kettle, with his familiar chicken-scratch writing across it. Frowning, she stepped into their kitchen (one corner of their only reception room, distinguished by the tiled floor) and scanned through it quickly. She couldn't hold back a gasp as she reached the end, tears filling her eyes.

"Oh no, Ron. This is really bad." She may have only spent one afternoon with the Slayers, but Hermione was nothing if not compassionate. Her boyfriend nodded, reaching out one long arm and pulling her into a hug.

"I need you to check my translation. Please tell me that I've messed it all up and that this is wrong." She nodded, watching as her tears fell onto his shirt.

"Of course I'll check." She moved to the table, snatching the book and a quill from his hands, and discarding his carefully collected notes. The ones that read,

_In the hour of Glory, shall come the Warrior who has died. She will sacrifice, and be sacrificed in her return. Of the four, two will pay for one, and the Lost one will be found. The Warrior will shelter the lambs, and she will lead them to the slaughter. The weapon will place itself in the hand of the Warrior and in this she will forge a connection, merging those that should not change with that which is cannot be called by name. The nameless one shall own the Warrior forever more, and through her, the Lambs. The Wizard heralds the end of the world, and the Warrior line shall be no more._

* * *

"Giles? G-Man, are you here?" Faith pushed open the door to the watcher's private office and wasn't surprised to find him there, leaning on his desk and staring into space. Or, not into space, but at his Slayer. Buffy was curled in a ball on one of his leather armchairs, arms wrapped tightly around her.

"Hey Faith. Thanks for coming." The blonde even managed a smile, despite her stupor, and Faith smiled shyly back, closing the door quietly and crossing the room to her sister slayer.

"You okay B?" Something flickered through Buffy's eyes, but too quickly for Faith to identify.

"Not really, not yet. But I'm better than I was." Giles made a_ hmm _sound at that, and Faith shot a glance at him, noting the glass in his hand. Something told her he wasn't drinking tea.

"What's the sitch then? Whats the deal?" Buffy raised tired eyes to meet Faith's, and tried her best to look comforting.

"It's fine Faith. It just... it looks like the First is back, you know that, but it looks like it's my fault... again. That's what the first Slayer was telling us, I think. I burned and you didn't. I rose again, but you never died. The others? They felt some pain in the dreams, as if they were put together wrong- or at least, thats the way Rona put it." That explained... very little, really.

"So the first slayer is pissed cos you're still alive, and the First Evil is back for another shot at the jackpot?" Both Giles and Buffy nodded, and the Englishman didn't even object as Faith took his glass, downing his scotch in one mouthful. "And little old me thought I'd be bored." She turned her gaze to Buffy again.

"So what are we going to do, General? When does round two start?" The blonde slayer winced a little at the title, but Faith didn't care. Buffy was acting in the role, if not with the title, and it was about time she got used to it.

"I think it already has." Her green eyes were troubled when she met Faith's eyes. "I'm not sure that it was the First Slayer that sent us that dream Faith- I don't think she was any happier than we were to be there. I think it owns us, now, because of me. Because we beat it. Because I'm alive. And it owns all of us, all the slayers."

Faith was silent for just a beat.

"All of you, you mean. That dream didn't hurt _me_, B." Buffy broke into a genuine smile and shocked Faith by leaping out of her seat and dragging her into a hug.

"You're right! Of course you're right! That's great news, isn't it Giles?" Even the watcher was smiling, the grin breaking across his face.

"Truly, this is tremendous news, and a great relief also." Faith glanced between them, bemused.

"Uh, not that I'm complaining or anything, but why exactly is this so great? I mean sure, not being the First's plaything rocks, but I think I'm missing something here."

"It's excellent because it means that there's someone out there who can stop me if I go psycho." Buffy made a face. "And maybe all the others too, we're not sure yet." Buffy grinned again. "Looks like its time to hit the training room sister. You have to be ready to beat me down."

Faith raised an eyebrow- her only expression of the shock she was feeling inside. Her, on her own, against an army of slayers possessed by the First Evil?

"Groovy." She turned to the door, ready to start that very second because this was far too big for her to understand yet, but fighting Buffy she could handle.

"Oh, and Faith?" She looked back over her shoulder to Giles, who was refilling his glass. Buffy was putting on her shoes and she didn't even look up when her watcher spoke.

"Yeah?"

"This is strictly between us. The others cannot know, not yet. We can't risk the girls panicking, or someone doing something irresponsible." By _someone_, he meant _Willow_, she guessed.

"Sure boss. But I gotta tell you, I think your _new _red-headed magic maker might have a clue or two as to what's going on. He was pretty twitchy earlier, fishing for info. Tried to bribe me with food." Buffy looked up then, frowning.

"Ron? You met Ron?" Giles looked more worried than B., that was certain. Faith nodded.

"Yeah, down in the kitchens earlier. Like I said, he used food to get me to talk- he's a smart one, knowing my weakness like that." She was only half-kidding, unsure still as to what, exactly, had made her talk to the man at all.

For a second everyone was silent, until Giles spoke in a very shaky voice.

"Maybe the wizard is best left out of this for now- we have no way of knowing where his loyalties really lie and this is a precarious time to test them."

Faith was surprised when Buffy ignored him, and faced her instead.

"What did you think of him?" Her voice, in contrast to the watcher's, was calm and controlled. But there was a question in it that only Faith heard- Can we trust him, sister?

"He was... interesting. He gives off a... vibe. A good vibe." The feeling she couldn't put words to earlier resurfaced as she spoke of him- his honest face and workman's hands. His willingness to share, even.

"I felt that too. We can trust him Giles, above and beyond everything else I know, I know that. He's here for a reason and that reason is more than just a job." The man looked unconvinced, but he nodded slowly. He'd learned the hard way what it meant to not trust his Slayer's judgment.

"So it's just the four of us then? Quite the party." She pulled open the door, hips swaying as she walked and her hair swinging from side to side in a way that Buffy knew was practiced. It had to be- even for a Slayer, Faith had always been graceful. "What's the story with our new magical friend anyway? Can I call dibs?" Buffy laughed, knocking her shoulder off Faith's in a friendly gesture.

"His story? Magical war, big bad, good guys win, Ron needs a new job. As for the other, he has a very significant other half who is more than capable of using a pointy stick, if you catch my warning. Hermione is not to be trifled with."

"_Hermione_? Geez, that's almost as bad as _Buffy_." The other slayer laughed, and several heads poked out from around the next door.

"Faith? You're back? Excellent! Are you here for long?" The slayer, Shannon, looked genuinely happy to see her and Faith couldn't help but blush a little. The Sunnydale girls still held a lot of affection for their one-time leader.

"Yeah kid, I'm sticking for a while. Right now though, I'm heading to the mats to give B. a workout." And she winked, because she was Faith and that meant everything had to be some kind of a double-entendre.

Shannon's jaw dropped and her eyes widened.

"Seriously? That's so cool! I'll see you there!" And the girl disappeared, running to the dorms yelling for her fellow slayers- there was going to be a showdown, and they'd all want to be there for it. Faith blinked, bemused, and Buffy laughed.

"So, you're about to get your ass kicked in front of all the Slayers on campus. How's that feel?" Eyes narrowed, Faith glared at the other woman.

"Bring it on B. Which one of us has been fighting the big evil for the last year, instead of relaxing in the Roman sunshine?"

Well, dammit. Faith had her there.

* * *

"I'm sorry Ron. You have it right. Maybe there's something else in here that can help though. I can keep looking. Oh! And I can think of a few other texts that reference Slayers-" He stopped her rambling with one light touch to her arm.

"Thanks for trying love. I really appreciate it." He avoided her gaze so she wouldn't see just how upset he really was- silly, really, because she could still see him.

"What do you want to do?" She couldn't force him to look at her, but neither could he force her to look away. They were sitting close enough together that she could see the anguish on his face.

"I... I don't know yet. I'll take it to Buffy tomorrow I suppose. She deserves to know what's going on. And I'll get started on the rest of the book- you have exams to be getting ready for, remember? And don't you have plans with Ginny and Fleur tonight?" She looked like she wanted to argue, for just a minute, and then simply made a face and gave in.

"Yes, we're going out to dinner with Angelina as some kind of a celebration. She's pregnant, by the way." He smiled, a ghost of his usual grin.

"I know love. I'm sorry." Her eyes teared up again and she swallowed hard.

"Don't make me cry Ronald, we've cried enough about this, okay? This is good news, and I'm happy for them both." It sounded more like she was trying to convince herself.

"I'm sorry." He repeated, pressing his lips to her forehead and pulling her into a brief hug. "Come on- I'm meeting the boys in twenty minutes, and we both have to get ready yet." They stood together, Hermione taking a few deep breaths to steady herself. Only when Ron released her did she speak, her voice quiet even in their tiny apartment.

"I will get over this, won't I Ron? Won't we?" He knew from experience that she didn't want him to even try and touch her- if he reached out, she'd give in to her tears and she was right. They had both cried enough already.

"I'm not sure you ever get over losing a child Hermione, but we'll get by. We don't have another choice." She nodded slowly, accepting his familiar words even as her hands flew to her stomach. It hadn't been too long ago that the same hands had rubbed circles there, attempting to comfort the child inside. They'd never told anyone- she hadn't been too far along, really, only four months, and it had been her last mission. They'd both agreed it was getting too dangerous, and really, it had been terrible bad luck that _both_ stunning spells had hit her. No-one could have predicted it, but that didn't stop her from blaming herself, occasionally Ron and even Ginny, who had fired one of the spells in the first place. She never usually blamed the Death Eater who'd ducked the spell just in time- he'd been trying to survive, and she couldn't begrudge him that.

"Come on love, let's go and try have a nice night, eh? There's enough bad things coming that they'll keep 'till tomorrow."

* * *

A/N: Questions? Comments? Criticism? 


	5. Chapter 5

It's been a while, but here goes.

I don't own HP or BTVS. I'm deprived, me.

* * *

He woke early from a very fitful sleep, hungover and tired, and slipped quietly out of the bed so as not to wake Hermione. The celebrations had lasted long into the night but he had never quite managed to relax, never managed to forget what he had learned the night before. He showered and dressed quickly, leaving Hermione a note to explain his absence and arrived at work almost two hours early for the first time. Ever. He'd never managed to be that early for school even, despite the fact that he lived in it. The halls were deserted- this wasn't unusual, given the nocturnal habits of the Slayers- and Ron felt he had the place to himself. He trudged around the grounds, ostensibly checking the wards but really taking the time to think about what he was going to say to Buffy. The book was tucked securely under one arm, his translations jammed inside it in a mess of parchment.

She saw him pacing the grounds from one of the second floor windows and she couldn't help but watch as he walked across and back on the same patch of grass, only pausing occasionally to wave his wand in a complicated pattern.

And she giggled at the phrase 'wave his wand', before turning to her sister and raising an eyebrow.

"Now is as good a time as any to have the talk, right?" The blonde smiled slightly in reply, and then winced as pain shot through her fractured ribs.

"Don't see why not- before the ravening hordes descend and you can't get a minute." Faith grimaced too- the Junior Slayers had been _very_ excited to see her and it had taken a lot of time, and some uncharacteristic patience, for the second Slayer to escape them.

"Do we need the Watcher-man?" Buffy shook her head slowly, blonde hair falling in her eyes a little.

"No. Not yet. He doesn't trust Ron, and I get it- I do, you know? Strange guy turns up giving all good vibes and we're all 'welcome to the team, here's the key to the kingdom', so someone has to be the sceptic, right?" Faith nodded her agreement, taking the stairs three at a time to reach the ground floor in seconds.

"Yeah, I get it too. But I trust him. I can't explain it, and I don't know why, but I do." She made a face. "It's been a long, long, time since I've trusted anyone as quickly as I decided I could trust him- and I only met him for like, two minutes." Buffy grinned, throwing open the front door and gesturing for Faith to exit before her.

"Some of the others have said it too- that he gives off a vibe. He's involved now, whether he wants to be or not." And she grinned widely before taking off at a run in the direction of their wayward wizard.

"Race ya!" She called, glancing back to see Faith grin and begin the chase.

* * *

"Dawn? What's the matter?" The brunette girl twisted her head to meet her roommate's gaze, smiling faintly.

"Nothings the matter, really. Just missing home, is all." She grinned, a little more fully. "What have you planned for this beautiful evening?" She shook her head to clear her thoughts and concentrated on listening to what Cathy was saying- there was a frat party and they were both expected to be there. Dawn smiled and joked and agreed in all the right places, doing her best to appear as normal as ever when all the time there was the tiniest voice in the back of her head telling her that something was... _off. _ Something had happened, or was about to happen, and she had a very, very bad feeling about it all. The sun was setting, day coming to a close and her gaze slipped back to the open window. Years later and she found herself back in Los Angeles (if she'd ever really been there to start with), studying and being a teenager in a way she had never been before. Not really, anyway. Rome had been fun, just her and Buffy, getting to know one another again. There had been lots of talking and laughing and a fair amount of crying too, but what she really remembered was the look in Buffy's eye when her sister had thought she wasn't looking. Buffy had wanted it back, had desired it so strongly that she went out at night when Dawn was asleep despite the complete lack of vampire activity in the city. They'd had visits from other Slayer's and they'd tell stories of their best slays and their worst fights, and Dawn watched as her sister's craving had grown.

She knew, of course, that Buffy was only sticking around in Rome for her and she couldn't help but love her sister for it. So when Dawn had announced that she was heading home to go to university, Buffy's relief had been expected and it hadn't hurt nearly as much as she'd feared. Of course, Dawn had deliberately chosen the one city in the world that Buffy would never set foot in again- that had been her way, she supposed, of making sure that her sister would actually get back to her own life, instead of tagging along with Dawn's like she had been.

"So, what do you think?" Cathy was modeling for her, twirling around in a deep read dress that really accentuated her pale skin and dark hair. She looked beautiful, Dawn knew, and she said as much, complimenting her friend and gushing about the party and ignoring the voice that was screaming at her to get a clue. She'd chosen LA for a few reasons- Buffy would never come here, and Angel kept the demon population in line, so she'd be able to at least pretend she was normal. She'd be able to pretend, for a while at least, that she was a regular girl in a regular college in a regular world. The fact that, recently, when she looked in the mirror, she was convinced she could see a faint glow around her was not at all worrying. At all. Really.

"I'm thinking of wearing the black halter-top tonight, with my skinny jeans and the kitten heels I bought last week. Good, or not good?" Cathy made a face, smiling but not smiling and twirled one final time before throwing herself onto her bed.

"I don't understand why you don't wear skirts more often, Summers. If I had legs like yours, I'd be showing them to everyone." Dawn sighed, realising that she couldn't get away from it. Any of it.

"I just feel better in jeans, Cat. It leaves more to the imagination." She winked, and Cathy laughed.

Dawn wore jeans because they were easier to fight in and she could strap a knife to the inside of her leg without getting weird stares. "Who else is going to be at this party tonight then? It's not just us and the Pi Sigs again, is it? Because even if you think that Stephen guy is the best thing since Sex and the City made it to box-set, I do not. That guy gives me a seriously wiggy vibe."

Cathy grinned again, sitting up on her bed to laugh at her friend.

"If you'd stop staring at him all the time, maybe the 'wiggy vibe' would go away. He gets all freaked out around you, because you're always following him around!" Dawn blushed bright red and Cathy laughed harder.

* * *

He saw them coming, of course. Slayers or not, they were making enough noise for a whole class of four year olds- and acting not much older, as Faith pulled Buffy to the ground in an attempt to win the race. The two women fell to the ground, laughing and winded, about five feet from him.

"I see you have that affect on a lot of people Summers- making us poor innocent bystanders fall over in the face of your inability to stand up straight." The outrage in his tone was feigned, of course, but Buffy responded in kind, making faces and complaining of bullying even as she clambered to her feet. Faith, who didn't have fractured ribs, managed a very impressive back-flip to standing before realizing that her knee, still weak from the fight the night before, wasn't going to hold, and she staggered, grabbing hold of Buffy in an attempt to keep her balance.

"I retract that statement- you two are as bad as each other. What can I do for you anyway? I can't say I was expecting to see anyone at this hour."

Buffy raised her eyebrows at that,

"I could say the same to you, buddy, as according to Hermione you've been known to _curse_ people who try to wake you before eight am." He coloured slightly, which Faith found amusing, but replied all the same, in a tone far too serious for that time of the morning.

"I think we all know why I'm here so bloody early. Take a seat ladies, and I'll tell you what I've found out."

None of them were excited by the prospect, exactly, but there was an eager glint to Buffy's gaze that would have frightened him if he'd known her better. Faith knew, and she recognised it- Buffy was gearing up for something big, something epic. Something apocalyptic, perhaps? The two slayers sat, cross legged with their knees almost touching, both facing away from the school and toward the woods. Ron was opposite them, curling his gangling frame into an elegant lotus position. The leather bound book lay on the grass between them, parchment spilling from it. Faith could see spidery writing scratched across the parchment in ink- not something she'd seen too much of, as she wasn't used to the wizard methods yet. It bothered her, just a little, that there was an entire world out there that she didn't know and didn't understand. It rankled, too, that there was a magical world out there that had sat back and let her fight monsters when she'd been just a girl. That didn't stop her feeling completely safe around Ron though, and she listened as he explained briefly what had happened, and what exactly he had learned.

"The watchers have always told you, or so I gather anyway- they're a tight lipped bunch, even when you're one of them- that they were the ones to create the First Slayer, right?" Buffy nodded slowly. Faith didn't bother reacting, because she had never cared and she didn't know the answer. "As far as I can tell, that's not quite true. Or, not the whole truth anyway." That, the dark slayer raised an eyebrow at. A watcher lying? Whatever would happen next? Buffy snorted, derisive. Apparently, she shared her sister slayer's opinion.

"According to my translation, and Hermione's because I had to be sure before I said anything, it wasn't just the watcher's who forged the Slayer. The watchers of the time were Wiccan Mages, powerful enough in their own right but it's like I said to Willow- Wiccan power is based on brute strength, and something as complex as binding such a lasting spell... well, that has to have been wizard magic." Buffy blinked. That was an interesting development. The boy flicked through a few pages, landing on a page close to the middle that depicted one large, unblinking eye obscured by cloud. "This is meant to represent the wizard magic- the eye- obscured by time. Hidden, I suppose, from the rest of the myth." He frowned. "We're probably the ones that retreated, I reckon, back when we retreated into our strongholds. I think that up until then, Watchers and Wizards got along alright. The last remnant of the alliance, I think, is my own position as an advisor."

"There's an awful lot of 'I thinks' in there." Buffy commented, meeting his troubled gaze with her own.

"I know that." He grinned. "But that doesn't mean I'm not right, too." Both the slayers grinned at that. He looked ready to launch into another history of this, that orthe other, but Faith forced herself to stop him. She wasn't sure she'd be able to concentrate for long enough and she hadn't had B's experience at faking it.

"That's a nice story and all, but get to the part where we're all going to die, and how you plan to stop it."

His grin faded.

"I'm getting there, but these bits are important, I promise. When the Wizards and the Watchers forged the slayer, they either forgot to ask where the power was coming from or they didn't care. So they took it from a demon, and bound it to a girl. Over the years, the centuries, the power has gotten so caught up with the Slayer line that the bond can't be broken- it's far too strong. The power has been building for centuries, drawing on the life of one slayer after another, until the time came when it could be more than one girl at once." Realization dawned on Buffy, and Faith was just a beat behind her.

"So, what? This demon has been biding it's time for thousands of years, just waiting for the time when there's so many of us that it can have it's own Slayer army?" Buffy's voice, to the trained ear, had lost it's eager edge and was heading toward distraught. Ron shook his head slowly.

"Not quite, not really. I think that the Slayers own the power now, not the other way around. There's no way that anyone could convince me that either of you could be controlled by anything, or anyone, else."

"But? There's a but, isn't there?"

"Definitely. You have But face." The Buffyism drew a tiny grin from the blonde slayer as she heard the other girl say it with a straight face. Faith allowed herself a moment of triumph as she recognised the tension release from the blonde's face. Never let it be said that people couldn't change- if anyone had asked her four years ago if she'd have cared if Buffy was stressed, she'd have laughed long and loud before shooting the questioner. Now? Now, the thing Faith worried about most was whether the other woman was looking after herself at all.

"Ha Ha, very funny. To continue, despite the interruption" Ron's glare would have been far more intimidating if either of the girl's hadn't faced down the mouth of hell and survived. "_But_ I think that what's happening now is an attempt at regaining the power, or at least some of it, by exploiting the weakness in the Slayer line- that being the fact that you were resurrected, sorry Summers- in an attempt to lure individual Slayers over to the Dark side."

"Because our strength comes from the First, and the First wants it back." It was a statement, not a question, so Ron didn't even bother answering.

"So what's the plan then? We keep an eye on the little 'uns and make sure no-one goes all Jack Nicholson on us?"

"That's not enough. I think that, in my dream, she was trying to tell me that I'm going to fall to it, and that the others will fall and that you're the only one that won't, Faith. I don't know why and I don't know how but something is going to happen that means I go to it willingly." If the other Scoobies had been there they'd have tried to convince her that she was wrong; that they'd find a way around it and that there would be sunshine and puppies until the end of time. What Buffy appreciated about Faith and Ron was the opposite- they believed her, agreed with her even, but they didn't try to reassure her that everything would be okay. They weren't prepared to lie to her, just to make her feel better.

"What's your role in this then, Wand Wielder?" There was just enough innuendo in the question for Buffy to smile again. Ron sighed, pretending frustration.

"Don't you get it, Slayer? Or is it that all you're good for is poking people with sticks?" A wide smile spread across her face as she leaned in toward him,

"Oh, I'm real good with sticks." Ron flushed a little, and decided it would be best for his modesty, and his dignity (and his manhood, if Hermione were to find out he was flirting with a beautiful woman) if he just didn't even try to refute it. Internally, he convinced himself that he was taking the high road. Externally, he blushed and ducked his head.

"I'm not sure why it was _me_, not yet anyway, but I think the Wizards are back in the picture because something that was started thousands of years ago is coming full circle and we all need to be present for it- Watchers, Slayers and Wizards. And now we're all here, it's a question of what's next."

They sat in silence, each one staring into the distance trying to find a solution to a problem that lay in the very heart of them. What could you do when everyone you knew might suddenly decide to turn evil and kill you?

* * *

He couldn't breathe. Gasping, his hand reached out into empty air, desperate to find something to touch; something to hold onto. His other hand clutched at histhroat as he coughed and choked and finally managed to draw some air into his empty lungs.

It took a few moments for him to remember that he didn't actually need to breathe, but by then his eyes were open and he was looking around him, confused. It was a small, dark, room and he was the only one in it.

His voice, unused to working after soon long away, sounded rough even to his own ears.

"Is this hell?"

There was no answer, only the echoing of his own voice in his head, and Spike- or was it William? It was hard to tell anymore- pushed himself to his feet, feeling for the walls with his hands. Fear and anger coursed in his veins- or where his veins should be. He was trapped, he could feel it, but he couldn't begin to fathom how or why. He hadn't been here, in this world, for what felt like so _long_, who could even care about him anymore? The walls were damp and cold beneath his fingertips and he traced them around the room until he found what he was looking for- the faint ridge of a doorway, and the tiny breeze sailing through the gap where door met wall. His face twisted into the parody of a smile.

Wherever it was and whatever had brought him here was about to discover that even _Heaven_ couldn't tame the Slayer of Slayers. Raising one, inexplicably booted, foot Spike drew back and smashed a kick at the door, scattering splinters by the thousand and making his presence very obviously known.

The door imploded but whatever entrance he was hoping to make was ruined by the fact that the hallway was empty and dark, and he couldn't sense a single other person- or vampire, or anything other- within a mile. Where the hell was he? It was dark enough that the tunnel was difficult to navigate, even with Vampire sight, and he kept one hand on the wall as he walked. The only sound was that of his own boots threading on the bare floor as he moved, his footsteps sounding muffled and distant. His head was pounding- it hadn't felt this bad since he'd first had the chip in and he'd first tried to bite someone. William felt a tiny twinge of guilt at that, but Spike had long enough to get used to reality that it didn't cripple him like it once would have. There's something about saving the world and spending an eternity in a state of bliss that really gave one some perspective. Of course, bliss for a demon and bliss for anyone else are two entirely different things, but he'd enjoyed the Heavenly aspects well enough. Enough that his soul already cried out in pain at having lost it, and Spike couldn't believe that Buffy, without the Demon to countermand the grief, had actually managed to survive the pain and not go insane.

The cynical side of him commented that she'd already been half-loopy anyway and that had probably been what had saved her. He fumbled forward, his fingers tracing the wall until he found a second doorway, air moving beneath his hand.

The door opened slowly, revealing the darkness of night. It took him a second to adjust, eyes blinking at the stars above. It had been an age since he'd seen them from here but he'd spent enough time here that he'd recognize the sky scape from anywhere. How in the world- and the worlds beyond it- had he ended up back in Sunnydale?

* * *


End file.
